


Not Without Luna

by Ms_Rugby



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Rugby/pseuds/Ms_Rugby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you suddenly found yourself alongside Harry during his sixth year at Hogwarts, what would you do? Traveling across realities, Ryan finds herself asking that question while residing in the body of Luna. She read the books and seen the movies. With that knowledge she is determined to rewrite the history of the world she is now apart of. Not your typical romance. [Luna, Hermione] Femslash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Myself

Author's Note: Hello all and welcome to my newest story! I had this idea in my head for quite some time and I wanted to share it with you, so here ya go I hope you enjoy. I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine.

I understand that things will be strange at first, but please bear with me. All will be explained eventually so just hang in there. This will eventually be a Hermione/Luna pairing...sorta, so if that makes you uncomfortable I apologize, but this may not be the story for you.

Disclaimer: This is the only time I'm going to say this as it applies to each chapter I write from here on out: I do not own anything but the characters I create.

There will be some bad language sprinkled throughout this story so be warned.

.

Chapter 1. Not Myself

A pale girl sat in her room at the foot of the bed, her ankles criss-crossed and tucked tightly into her chest that was covered by a pale yellow sun dress. The sun was just peaking up above the horizon radiating an orange warmth into the dully lit room. The girl ran a shaky hand through her wispy blond hair that fell in front of her face protectively like a curtain, then leaned her head back so it was resting on the comfortable mattress. She stretched her legs out in front of her with a groan and took a deep breath, in an attempt to gather herself. Dark circles lined the bottoms of her eyes, the evidence of the lack of sleep she received the previous night. Her sleeplessness resulted from pain. For the last two days she has been locked in her small room, a throbbing ache radiating from the center of her body. It was difficult to explain the sensation; it felt as if someone reached inside and chiseled away part of her soul, leaving a gaping hole exposed then stuffed it with something that doesn't belong. Her body showed no physical signs of the pain it caused, but it left her feeling drained.

The room she sat in was simple, yet strange. The baby blue carpet that adorned the floor clashed with the bright yellow paint that covered the perfectly circular walls, giving the room a feeling of residing in a bottle. The entire house is circular, so that feeling extends to the rest of the rooms in the house as well. There was one simple dresser with a curved design that molded directly to the odd shape of the wall. The ceiling was painted to show pictures of five people, two girls and three boys, with the word "friends" written in gold ink creating a winding circle that connected them all together.

She cast a wary glace towards the simple dresser that stood adjacent to the small bed. Very slowly she stood and walked slowly to the dresser, peering down at the long piece of wood that made her heart race so rapidly. It was unlike her to be scared of something so small, something so seemingly harmless, yet she knew that with it she could wield power greater than that she could have ever imagined. It was simple and elegant in its design; roughly a hand and a half in length, rounded on all its edges, but not perfectly so. The thinnest part of the wood had carvings of branches etched into it that gradually grew in size along its entire length until acorns sprouted from them at the other, thicker, end.

She raised an unsteady hand and placed a single index finger on one of the acorns. Unexpectedly, the wood was warm and seemed to hum with the energy it contained. Taking a deep unsteady breath, she wrapped her hand around the thicker end and raised it to take a closer look. She had been avoiding handling it and reasonably so, for this was a wand. A strange sense of familiarity washed over her as she inspected the wand in her hand which filled her with a sense of unease and yet,…..warmth.

She rolled it along the tips of her fingers and could feel a slight hum coming from the core of her body; where exactly, she could not be sure, but the sensation was vibrating deep in her bones. The longer she concentrated on the feeling, the more intense it became until she felt as if her entire body trembling from the sensation. Her whole body shook, becoming more and more intense, until finally there was a resounding 'CRACK!' that broke her concentration and the feeling quickly regressed back into a hum. She turned her body to see the one window in the room shattered completely, the pieces spilling onto the carpet dangerously.

Hurried footsteps could be heard walking hurriedly up the stairs and her door opened to reveal a man whose oddity fit the house perfectly. His hair was so pale, it was almost see-through and maybe it would be if it had been washed recently; the grease blocking the transparency. It hung down to his shoulders in waves similar to the ones that were currently on top of her own head.

"Lunalove! Are you alright?" said the man frantically, his eyes finding the broken glass from the window and her with a wand in her hand.

"Yes father." she replied, trying to make the smile on her face convincing. "I do not know what happened." She was unaccustomed to speaking so formally, but it seemed appropriate so she went for it.

He stared at her for a long moment before walking over and placing the back of his hand on her forehead. "Are you okay my darling? Did you have an encounter with the Wigsprites?" He furrowed his brow with concern. "Remember they do like to mate this time of year and their offspring can slip up your nose and wreak havoc with your magic."

The girl gently pulled his hand off her head and squeezed it once reassuringly. "That must've been it. I'm fine daddy really." She smiled reassuringly, but the concern did not leave his face. Clearly she did something wrong, but she had no clue what it was. He obviously cared for her. God this is so hard.

He continued to look her over for a minute or so before saying, "Alright if you think you are I'll believe you. But if you feel dizzy or a sudden urge to dance a jig, you come straight to me." He returned her smile softly. "I will." She gave him a crooked smile as he cupped her cheek for a moment before turning around and leaving the little room.

Sighing to herself, she decided it was time to venture outside. With her wand firmly grasped in her hand, she left the room and walked down the stairs silently. Peering around the banister to the stairs, she saw the man working in the kitchen, leaning over a cauldron while looking down at a book with a small vile in his hand. The kitchen was just as odd as the rest if the house. On one wall there were shelves that held an assortment of vials containing different ingredients for potions and another had more shelves that had seemingly random items thrown carelessly on them.

She slowly walked towards the front door hoping that he was too caught up with his work to notice her. Apparently he was because his back never turned as she slipped into the fresh morning air. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she dug up the courage to leave the safety of the house and explore the surrounding area. Not wanting to wander too far, she only walked down the hill the house was perched on until she came to the very bottom. It was strangely peaceful. No surrounding houses could be seen; only a vast landscape covered in long grass that came midway up her calf. Bunches of red and purple flowers were bunched together in random spots poking up through the grass, happily growing in the sunlight. She sat down and looked up into the cloudless sky, breathing in the fresh air calming her nervs. She hadn't had a peaceful moment sense she arrived at the house and having one now cleared her head enough to rationally think about her situation. It appeared that she was not leaving anytime soon, so she would have to suck it up and bear with it. 'Why does the universe keeping screwing me over?' she thought. 'I keep getting shitty deals….and just when I was happy too.' Her eyes glassed over with tears that she stubbornly refused to shed.

Wiping her eyes, she sat up and crossed her legs underneath her. If nothing else, she was a survivor; never has she given up hope completely in a situation, even when it looks like there is no silver light at the end of the tunnel. She was here and she had no idea how long she was going to be stuck here, so she resigned herself to the belief that her circumstance wasn't going to change anytime soon. Holding up the beautiful wand in front of her, she decided that it was time to use it, consequences be damned.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember something simple that she could try. She sat crossed legged on the grass running different spells through her head. It had to be more complicated than it seemed, she knew that there was more to it than simply saying a word and waving your wand, but her lack of knowledge was worrying. What if she did something wrong and injured herself or someone around her? How was she supposed to survive in this world without any training? She was expected to have years of learning already under her belt, so how in god's name did anyone expect her to pass her classes? She knew that she had to start somewhere, so she decided to dive in head first. 'Swish and flick' was the first thing that came to her mind. It was a prominent spell that stuck out vividly in her memory, so she remembered what it was supposed to look like. Lifting her wand she made movement that looked like a crescent moon that lead away from her body, and then flicked it once. 'Swish and flick', ok not too hard.

She spotted a small rock, about the size of a penny, and repeated the movement with her wand saying, "Wingardium Leviosa". Nothing happened. Puffing her cheeks in annoyance she tried again, this time saying it louder and making the movement with her wand more exaggerated. Nothing happened. Damn.

 _"You're moving your wand too much"_ said a voice.

"What the fuck?" She suddenly jumped to her feet, looking around for the source of the sound, her heart hammering in her chest. "Who said that?" No one was near her as far as she could see, which only made her heart race faster.

 _"I did of course."_ It said again.

"Where are you?" she demanded.

_"Good question, I would very much like to know that myself, although it seems like I'm where you are."_

That voice. She recognized that voice; the dreamy, airy, quality to it. Her heart felt as if it was severed inside her chest leaving it to drop suddenly to her toes, slamming against the ground. It can't be.

"…Luna?"

.


	2. Ryan Jackson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Yes this is still the same story. This chapter focuses on the background info, which to me is just as important as the main story, so I apologize in advance for the slow pace I have set. Please read this chapter carefully. Things won’t be fully explained until the next chapter, but hopefully this will shed some light to Luna's odd behavior.

Ryan Jackson thought she finally found the perfect life. No longer was she unwanted. No longer was she unprotected. No longer was she at the mercy of her father and the haunting truth of his death. She found a home and a family who cared for her more than she ever thought she deserved. If she would have known that she only had four years to be with them to only leave and never return, she would have done things differently. She would have made sure that they knew how special they were to her, how much they made her feel loved and how hey inevitability saved her life. Four years of pure bliss.

If someone would have told Ryan six years ago that she was going to die she would have laughed in their face and say that she was surprised that she was still alive now. There was no doubt that she was a survivor; it was in her blood, seeping through her veins and she had a stable family at last. If there's one thing that she's learned in her life, is that happiness is fleeting; lasting only for a moment, teasing and taunting you before being ripped painfully away by the strings of fate. This has happened to her many times in the past but none more so than it did on the day of her demise.

Ryan was born in Washington DC and lived there for some time with her family until there was no one left to look after her. Sometime after her the death of her father she was put into the foster care system, bouncing around from house to house until she ended up in New York City with Gran and Little Miguel who took her in when she needed it most. Ryan was seventeen when she started living with them, having only a year left in the system before she was considered an adult and sent away to figure her own way in the world. She was still not considered legally an adult, so she was allowed to be adopted by Gran who offered to take her in as soon as she was lead through the door by little Miguel. She had no idea what would have happened to her if it wasn't for their kindness.

Little Miguel had a childhood similar to hers, parents passing away with no one to look after him and going into foster care. She was told that he ran away from his foster home and was found by Gran trying to sneak food out of their local church. Apparently it was a surprise to all when Gran decided to care for the Hispanic boy instead of punishing him for his theft, but Ryan knew that he had the older woman wrapped firmly around his finger. He had a knack for charming people with his bright personality, herself included, getting wanted was of little effort. Even though Ryan loved little Miguel like a brother, she could not help but to feel some envy towards the boy. Her childhood made her hard; permanently placing a wall of protection around her heart, keeping the pain at bay. Unfortunately this resulted in keeping those who truly loved her at a distance, far enough so that no true attachments could be formed. It was a defense mechanism that she mastered over the years and it took her small family over a year to earn her complete trust even though they took her in and loved her unconditionally.

Little Miguel was seven when he rescued her and took her home. He was an average kid; normal in his appearance, his Hispanic roots showing through in his facial features and skin tone, but his compassion was extraordinary. He was not angry or upset when Ryan was un-trustful of him at first, allowing her to gradually lick her wounds so they healed enough for the two to become close. Gran on the other hand was indifferent towards her in the beginning until she proved herself to be better than the average street rat. She took her in regardless, giving her the opportunity to do so. Gran was a no-nonsense, elderly, black lady who lived alone most of her life until little Miguel came into the picture. Ryan always wondered if her dreads became grey all at once or if it was a gradual process. She can't picture anyone with natural grey roots on top of their head, extending halfway down their hair before turning into their natural color. When she was little she thought that this is what happened when your hair turns grey: it would just start changing color one day at the roots and when you cut your hair, you'd cut off the colored part, leaving the grey behind. Then she learned it was a gradual process. A strand here would turn grey and another one there until your entire head was a greyish white color. Did this happen the same way with Gran? For her, one strand of her hair is wrapped around a multitude of others, tangled elegantly into each other forming one solid mass, each one touching her lower back. Ryan had only known her when her entire head was grey. Not asking about it before she died was one thing that she always regretted.

Little Miguel was her saving grace, her angel, her light in a world of darkness, and she loved him like a brother. She would have cared for him even if he was not her savior; worming his way under her shield and into her heart. He found her one cold rainy day sitting on a park bench in dirty clothes two sizes two big, a black eye, and knuckles bloody from a recent fight. In reality, he should have been frightened by the girl, but the look she had on her face was one that he remembered all too well He'd seen it on himself many occasions, a look that plainly said "I give up". That night was her last night ever in a foster home and the last time she would get into a fight until the day she died.

Dying isn't nearly as scary as everyone thought, although hers was fast and came rather unexpectedly. A death in which a person knows that they are dying might be much scarier, but the act of dying itself is as easy as falling asleep, embracing you like a lost lover finally returning home. It's strange how she died. Anyone who knew her would have expected her to die in her youth and she did come close numerous times with her knack for getting into trouble. It was difficult, her temper almost getting out of her control on more than one occasion, but she never got into a fight after that night mainly because she finally had a safe place to live sense her mother's death. Her father...her father was never the same after the love of his life left.  
Stability was something that Ryan was not used to, but she held onto it with all her might. Every day was the similar to the last, days building into weeks, weeks building into months, until four years went by with little change to her daily routine. For her, this was stability; this was the support she needed. When you lived many years of your life where you don't know where your next meal is going to be or where you're going to sleep that night, having a stable routine was a blessing. At least it felt that way to Ryan. She worked at the local mail house running machines and sorting various packages when they came in. Gran helped her get this job soon after she started living with them, insisting that she had to either go to school or work if she wanted to live in the house. Even though Ryan was smart and would have excelled in school if she hadn't been bumped around to different ones every time she changed homes, she wanted to help support the family that took her in, especially little Miguel. The money that she did not use to help pay for living expenses she put aside in a bank account intending to give it to her brother so he could go to college. This was the best life she could have ever hoped for and resided herself to the belief that this was as good as it was going to get, but she wanted more for little Miguel. If she had anything to say about it, he was going to hold a college diploma in his hand and lead a happy, normal life. She worked seven am to six pm Monday through Saturday. On Sundays Gran took her and little Miguel to church and they spent the rest of the evening together as a family.

The day of her death began normally like it had been for the past four years. It was a Saturday and she woke up that morning, ate breakfast with the family, and then left for work. It was not the easiest day she's had, but not the hardest either. There were only a few packages to sort through that morning but the machine she was assigned to work that day broke down. She had to do the job by hand until the repair man came and fixed it an hour later. Because of the breakdown, it took her longer to finish for the night, so when she was done it was darker out than she was accustomed to. She thought about calling Gran to come pick her up, but she didn't want to be a bother and the apartment was only a few blocks away, so she decided to walk.  
She strode along the familiar path towards her home on the sidewalk in a slow pace, tired from a long day’s work. The end of the sidewalk lead to a busy intersection, so she stopped to wait for the lit up white man to appear on the crosswalk sign telling her it was ok to cross the street. On the sign was now a large red hand indicating that it was not safe to go yet. Something out the corner of her eye distracted her, a flash of some sort that created enough of a disturbance for her to turn and look for the cause. Ryan turned her whole body around, her eyes darting sharply from side to side as her heart race increased. One thing her life as taught her was to be wary of other people, especially when you are alone at night, but if there was someone behind her she didn't see them. When she turned around she realized that the light suddenly changed and the lit up white man appeared on the sign only to be quickly followed by the number 15. It slowly started counting down, signaling the amount of time available to cross. When she finally pulled herself out of her fear, she saw that only a few seconds remained until the light turned again. She decided to risk crossing the street if only to avoid the strange flash of light. Worry etched across her face, she took one big step out into the busy street, then another until she heard a loud honking to her left. She whipped her head to the side to see two bright headlights coming quickly towards her. Freezing with fear she only had time to twitch her eyes back to the other side of the road to see that the red hand never changed before the car slammed into her side. Then blackness.

There was no pain. The only sensation she could feel was flying sideways then falling. It took a moment for her to realize that she should have hit the ground by now. She kept falling and falling into an endless dark abyss that eagerly swallowed her whole. It’s odd, the sensation of falling. For the first few moments it's as exhilarating and as heart stopping as it would seem, but after a while when the fear of hitting the ground leaves, it turns into weightlessness; a black void. In this state time stopped. She couldn't say how long she was there falling into nothingness, but during this time she was no longer afraid. Finally she passed something. A single silver of light streaked by to her right in a millisecond, zooming back off into the darkness before becoming only a shining dot in the distance. Then another passed and another until billions of these tiny lights flashed by, tickling her senses as they flew. They illuminated her body and Ryan couldn't help but to stare at the dancing light they casted off her skin as they dashed by. Each one of these lights did the same thing, passing her until they settled in their spot off in the distance, until the blackness she was in was now brimming with light. Where these stars? An increasing amount of the lights grew larger and larger until she could almost feel the heat of a particularly large one that came alarmingly close to her face. Ryan was in awe at the sight, the stars twinkling and reflecting in the deep brown pool of her eyes. All the motion and movement was starting to make her sick, so she closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath. She was surprisingly calm until she felt as if her speed was increasing. Opening her eyes, she saw a large speck in the distance that grew larger and larger until it reached the size of a basketball. It looked like earth, breathtakingly beautiful with its blues and greens under a fluffy swirling mass of white. It continued to grow. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breath hitched. In the back of her mind she wondered how she was even breathing in space. She fell downwards breaking through earth's atmosphere, through the clouds and falling rapidly towards the ground. At first the landscape was not distinguishable, but after a few moments outlines could be seen of the surrounding area. Was that a city? A town? There was defiantly a big lake or pond in the distance and the land was separated by different roads. Further and further she fell until people could be seen, looking similar to ants scurrying around on the ground. There were hills directly below her, a meadow, and a tiny house surrounded by grass. Was it a house? If it was it certainly was odd. She was going to hit it; fall right onto the roof. She lifted her arms in front of her face bracing for the impact to come...Only it never came. She phased unharmed right through the roof, the attic, and then the drywall. The last thing she saw a wispy blond-haired girl with a pair of ice blue eyes looking up at her with a started expression on her face before she slammed right onto the body, darkness consuming her once again.


End file.
